Year Seven
by lyra-cle
Summary: Summary in Disclaimer. Please Review!
1. Disclaimer

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I do own their personalities! XD…kind of? I dunno. But anyway, JK Rowling is amazing.

Summary: It's the 7th year that Draco has been at Hogwarts, and he is alone. His two cronies were kicked out, and the events of the previous year have broken his heart. He has naught to live for, except hope and the help of others.

The characters are a little…out of character? Hehe…lots has happened and things have changed. Also, I haven't read book 6 yet, so I have no idea what happens in it.

Also, there's some guy/guy stuff that goes on; nothing explicit. More shounen-ai (feelings and emotions) than straight up yaoi (sex). Which surprised me, because usually I like to write the dirty stuff. But as I continued writing I found that this actually gained a sort of plot, so I didn't want to contaminate it with lots of sex. (as much fun as sex is…) And I don't think it really needs it. Buuuut I've rambled on long enough about this dumb story, you probably just wanna read it! At least I hope you do… Please review!

Lyracle


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter I**

Sharp patterns of frost had formed on the window of the compartment and the blonde boy sat alone. His two best friends; rather…cronies, had been dismissed from the school in their sixth year for excessive hexing of some first-year Hufflepuff boys. He would have to spend his final year of school alone, his life devoid of all light, much as it had always been. But having someone to simply be with you was comforting, and now he had nothing. Sighing, he idly drew figures on the foggy window. Names began to emerge among the shapes, and he shuddered as he realized what he had written. The title of He-who-must-not-be-named glared in his face, above which was written then name of the boy who lived. Angrily he wiped both of them away, but a shadow remained of each. Shivering, he felt as though those shadows reflected their souls that still remained after their death. The Dark Lord had been defeated by young Harry Potter, an infuriating boy who, for all his prowess, had remained humble and without conceit until his untimely death. Draco scribbled on a bit of parchment with a muggle pen; a tool he actually found quite useful. Harry had killed Voldemort, the death eaters had hunted Harry down and…well the details were not privy. He had been emotionless in public, snickered with his friends, and sobbed in the prefect's bathroom. Even the mermaid had been silent as he shed his unmanly tears of grief into the foaming water. Even his former lover could not bring him from the hole he had shrunk into when Harry died. Nothing affected him anymore, and even though he had never…pursued his desires it still had drained him of all feeling. The more he thought about it, the further he pondered his plight. Only love dead, father in Azkaban, sure to never see the light of day again, mother a pale waif, and a legacy to carry on that no one needed. All the death eaters had been imprisoned, leaving many Slytherin students without parents. Parentless, loveless, lifeless…the last of the Malfoy line. And he couldn't even carry on his father's name with love. Suddenly he grabbed his bag and threw it with all his strength against the opposite wall of his compartment and listened to pots of ink shatter, the black liquid soaking the leather through, like his own black blood which with he wanted to paint out all that was left of his 'life'. He felt tears trickling down his cheeks and put his face in his hands, sitting back in the seat. Suddenly he heard the door of the compartment slide open, and he looked up to see a no longer bright-eyed Hermione Granger. Roughly, Draco wiped at his eyes and turned away. He hadn't the strength to be evil.

"Draco? M…may I talk to you?"

"If you must, Granger."

"It…it's about…"

"Harry."

"Yes." She sat down and looked at the beautiful young man. High cheekbones made the hollows in his cheeks more pronounced, and his grey-blue eyes had darkened considerably over the summer.

"I don't know where to begin…"

"I loved him as much as you and Ron, you know? But he never knew."

"He did. He…he wanted me to tell you."

"He could never have loved me, Hermione. He hated me."

"He loved you, Draco! Every night he sat in the common room trying to do homework, but only ever did your face emerge on his paper."

Malfoy looked at the pretty girl. Sincerity was in her eyes, and he found himself nodding.

"I still have them, if you would like to see them."

"I would."

She nodded.

"Also some letters he wrote you, but never sent."

Draco was silent, and quietly she stood up to leave.

"I'll give them to you once we get to school, all right?"

"Yes. Thank you Hermione."

"Goodbye Draco."

Gently she slid the door closed, and Malfoy closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. Harry, love him? Impossible. But stranger things had happened…

"Malfoy! Watch your cauldron!"

Draco snapped to reality in potions to see that purple liquid was spilling over the sides of his cauldron. Swiftly he cleared the mess and waited for Snape's wrath.

"What are you thinking, you little fool? Class dismissed, except Mr. Malfoy."

The Ravenclaws and Slytherins packed their bags and slowly shuffled out of the room, leaving Draco with his ruined potion and absent mind.

"Into my office."

His feet felt like lead as he walked into the room, stuffy with heat and the scent of wood.

"Sit down, Draco."

Severus Snape's voice was uncharacteristically gentle.

"What's gotten into you, boy?"

"Too much." Draco said quietly, his shoulders dropping. Snape walked to him and put a hand on his shoulder, pushing aside his normally frigid nature.

"There are a number of things it could be, Draco. Which is bothering you the most?"

"I suppose…last year."

Snape nodded and sat down in the chair next to him.

"Which death?"

"The one that should not have been. It…it wasn't…right. They had no right…" his voice cracked and Draco's face was twisted with pain and tears.

Snape realized again how much he was reminded of Lucius, and put his arms around the young man. Draco clung to the man's thick cloak; his father's best friend; his godfather.

"Voldemort deserved to die. I've always wanted him dead, Severus. But Harry…he wasn't supposed to die. He needs to be alive. My father needs to be at home, and my mother needs to be well again, bitching about my attitude."

"I know, Draco. It hurts all of us, but we all deal with it in different ways."

"This summer Mum and I went to Azkaban to visit him, and he didn't even recognize me! His hair is stringy and unkempt, his eyes and cheeks are sunken in. He's so thin…his robes hang off him like forgotten laundry. His eyes have turned grey and he glances around as though waiting for hands to reach out and grab him. He's not….my father anymore. I don't know who he is, Severus. But I don't want to become that."

"With the way you look, you're on your way."

Draco wiped the tears off his cheeks and shivered.

"I miss Harry."

"We all do, Draco."

"I never told him, though. Nothing ever happened. He died and now there's nothing."

Severus nodded, and said nothing, even though he wanted to. Orders from Dumbledore were not to be disobeyed.

"Professor McGonagall is good as Headmistress, but she's no Dumbledore. Why did he have to die as well? Everything has gone so wrong…it was supposed to get better after Voldemort was killed!"

"Things have gotten better, Draco. But not everything can go the way we want it to."

Draco was silent, and a new wave of tears poured over his face. This time he just allowed Snape to hold him like he would a child. Severus was reminded of the birth of this blonde-haired angel who was now suffocating from the lack of hope in his life. The tiny, delicate imp he'd held in his arms amid the smiles of the proud parents. The friendly touch of his once-cherished lover, now simply good friend and father of the beautiful child.

Sighing, Draco pulled away from the man he loved and trusted as an openly caring father. Something he'd never received from the man who'd fathered him.

"Go back to your room, Draco. I'll write your teachers and let them know you weren't feeling well."

Draco nodded but did not smile, letting Severus run a hand over his hair and kiss the top of his head.

"See you tomorrow."

The boy got up and gathered his books, leaving the classroom and going up to his room. Collapsing on his bed, he took out the drawings Hermione had given him. Gazing at them for as long as he could, he was careful not to let his tears fall on the yellowing parchment.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

"How are you feeling today, my boy?"

"Very well, thank you Professor."

"A letter from Sirius came this morning. Want me to read it to you?"

"Please."

The small, dark room was warmed by the blazing fire, and Madam Pomfrey gathered her things before leaving.

"I'll be going now, Professor. Just send me an owl next time I'm needed."

She took her leave of both men, and was gone.

"Now then, the letter."

The boy listened intently as the letter from his godfather was read by the older wizard whose half-moon glasses slipped down to the point of his nose.

_The Hogwarts crew is managing with their grief, except for one young Slytherin who is still rather despondent. You need to heal faster, Harry…or else I fear the consequences of your 'death' could become quite serious. Padfoot and Buckbeak are frequent travelers in this part of the country, and we're managing to slowly emerge I think. _

_I look forward to seeing you again soon, when we all can come together once more and be mostly care-free. _

_Buckbeak sends his love, as do I. _

_Sirius_

"I need to go, Professor!"

"No, Harry." Dumbledore said, rolling the parchment again."

"You're still not well enough, and the shock would still be too great for them to handle."

"They're in pain, Albus. And it's because of me. And Draco…you know him. He is practically an orphan, he has no friends; he's nothing to live for, in his mind."

"He will be cared for, Harry. No harm will come to young Malfoy as long as certain adults still live."

Harry lay back against his pillows and closed his eyes. Looking down at his body, he wished that he would heal faster. His practically charred flesh was slowly mending, and his right arm was beginning to take on a normal shape again. He still dared not to look at his own face, for fear of what he would see. The only thing he knew was that the scar on his forehead pained him every day, and he knew that fire had burned from it as Voldemort was destroyed. Harry's own skin had become more pale, and his green eyes were still tinged with an evil red glare. As skilled as he was, Dumbledore was only able to do so much to rid the boy's body of the fragments of such a shattered evil soul.

Harry worried about Draco every day, and every day he was helpless to do anything. Dumbledore promised four more months, but in two months Harry feared that Draco would be dead. He longed to at least write to his friends, but that was impossible. Only choice people knew of the Headmaster's and his flight. Mr. Weasley knew, Snape knew. Sirius obviously knew, as did Professor McGonagall. It was just as well the Dursleys thought him dead, but he was touched when he saw his aunt shed a few tears at her nephew's funeral. Even Dudley had seemed rather forlorn, but the reason could have been that he had been forced to slim down to a measly 200 pounds in the past few years. Military camp had done wonders for the whale who was now a tall, stocky, and strong young man of seventeen. He supposed that Dumbledore would let them know the truth after a while, but he would never have to live with them again. Things would get better once they could come out of hiding, and life would get back to normal.

The days passed much the same as they had for months, and Harry's body continued to mend as the lives of others continued.

Malfoy was walking alone on the battlements near the owlery when a voice made him shiver.

"Draco…how thin you are."

The soft yet gruff voice crooned close to his ear, and the harsh face of Marcus Flint greeted his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Draco whispered, allowing the older man to push him against the wall.

"I heard you were lamenting, and thought I'd come to comfort you."

The man pressed his strangely smooth lips against Draco's neck, but the boy was unaffected.

"Why are you really here?"

"They needed a Quidditch coach, and I was first pick."

Draco's stomach flipped nauseously. That meant that the man would be here for a long time. He was numb as Marcus slipped his rough hands into the blonde's pants and fondled him. Flint didn't care that his ministrations were not being returned; he was addicted to the boy's smooth, pale skin that was cool to the touch, and even the sunken face satisfied the need for Draco's flesh. The hard stone was cold against Draco's stomach, and he lay still while Marcus enjoyed himself immensely. When the man was through, Draco stood and straightened his robes while Flint walked calmly away from him, unseeing of the hate-filled look that Draco gave him. He rubbed at his arm where the man's nails had cut him, the red blood against his white skin was beautiful and disgusting at the same time. Suddenly his stomach convulsed, and he threw himself to the wall as the contents of his empty stomach fell the three hundred feet to the base of the cliffs and he collapsed on the ground. The wind had picked up, and he pulled his robes around his thin body, pulling himself up and walking down the spiral staircase to the outskirts of the grounds. He walked for an hour, until his numb legs could no longer carry him and he collapsed at the base of a large tree. He lay still, sensing that he was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers and toes, and it was spreading to his arms. His sweat had dampened his hair, which was now frozen in the wind and snow began to collect around him. Opening his eyes, Draco looked up into the night of blackest blacks, and found that the stars shone brightly through the breaks in the clouds. He let his cloak fall open, his hands going limp into the snow. He could no longer see his fingers, but he knew that they were probably blue; he didn't care. He hoped he would fall asleep soon so he could die instead of having to wake up, half-frozen and frostbitten. Through his watery eyes, he saw the figure of an animal trotting towards him, and he blinked.

"Buckbeak?"

The hippogriff from his 3rd year was walking to him, the large beak pressing into his stomach with a nuzzle.

"Go 'way…" the boy moaned, half-lifting an arm and trying to brush the huge animal away. The creature gave a low squawk and lifted Draco with its powerful head, the boy sliding back behind the large wings. He curled his fingers into the soft, warm feathers and hugged the strong neck, holding on tightly as Buckbeak prepared to take off. Eyes tightly shut, Draco hoped the animal would drop him into the lake, but soon he was numb from the cold, and he was no longer able to form complete thought.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

A gruff but gentle voice came to the boy through the mist in his mind, and Draco opened his eyes into the soft light of the warm hut.

"Our young friend has awoke, Beaky."

He watched a tall man approach him from the fire, and as the features came into view, Draco's body tensed and he let out a small moan of fear. The man before him had died two years before in the basements of the Ministry of Magic. He was sure of it.

"Hello Draco. Are you feeling better?"

"Y…you're dead."

Sirius Black smiled gently and put his hand on the boy's hot forehead.

"Only to some, my boy. There's a difference in an end to life and an intermission from it."

"But you fell…I heard it from so many people…"

"There are many things most people in the wizarding world don't know and never will understand. The time will come when you cease to be one of those people."

Draco was silent, and nodded.

"Buckbeak saved my life I think."

"Yes, he's a highly intelligent animal, don't you think? I was rather shocked when he showed up at the door with the half-dead Malfoy heir on his back. I had to pry your fingers from his feathers, but I'm glad to say he wasn't too irked that some came away in your grasp."

Draco thought he saw something like a smile on the face of the beast, and smiled back.

"Where are we?"

"Just outside of Glasgow, in a sheltered little valley. Beaky and I have been hiding out here for about a year now, but we move around now and then when things get suspicious."

Both men were silent, and Draco realized that he was speaking with his uncle; Harry's godfather.

"You share in everyone's grief, don't you."

"Yes, I do."

"Your sister is wasting away, your godson is dead, as is Professor Dumbledore."

"Many things have happened, Draco, and all need to be fought out and endured. Things will get better."

Draco's own godfather had said the same thing.

"Everyone keeps saying that, Sirius…but they haven't. It's been two months and today; rather yesterday, they got even worse."

"How so?"

"Marcus Flint is the new Quidditch coach at school."

"I'm sorry, I don't know who this is."

"Let's just say that I was glad when he graduated from Hogwarts. It put an end to much physical and emotional pain."

"Ah. I think I understand."

"But now he's back. And I suppose it doesn't really matter…I'm numb to everything these days. There is no feeling in my body, and only pain in my heart. I've become stone, Sirius…hard and cold."

The man ladled some stew into a bowl and sat next to the bed by the fire.

"Somehow you need to thaw out, Draco. When things do get better, you need to be prepared."

"I was prepared for death, and that was foiled."

"You should thank Buckbeak, not condemn him."

"Oh I do thank him, though I wish I'd have just never woken up."

"Draco, you need to stay alive. At least for three months, then you can make your decision."

"Why three months?"

He didn't feel humiliated when the man began feeding him the hot stew, and was grateful for human kindness.

"Something will happen in three months. When catastrophic events occur, people expect changes to be immediate. What they don't understand is that patience is needed to enjoy the benefits of good over evil."

"I've waited five months, Sirius. It would take a miracle to make things right again."

"Three months, Draco, is all I ask."

A knock on the door drew Sirius away from the bed, and he opened it to a dark figure who blew in with some snow, throwing back his hood. The two men embraced, and Draco was relieved to see his own godfather.

"You little demon-child…" Snape muttered, crossing the room to the bed and hugging the frail boy.

"Do you have any idea what you mean to me, Draco?"

The boy didn't answer, but smiled into the heavy cloak Severus wore. They spoke for a while, but Draco soon fell asleep again. The two older men left the bedside and sat together in front of the fire, not speaking. Severus looked at the man beside him, and noticed changes in the handsome face. His skin had toughened from exposure to the elements, and his hair was wild and flowing as usual, but longer than he had seen it last. Reaching out, he ran his hand through the black mess, smoothing out tangles and twirling it around his fingers.

"It's been so long since I've seen you, Sirius."

"It's hard to maintain contact when one is in hiding, Severus my friend."

Sirius smiled at the dark man's beautiful face, and moved closer to him. In a caring gesture, Severus pulled his cloak around both of them, his strong arms going around the other man's thin shoulders tenderly. Sirius let himself be folded into the comforting arms of his old friend, and the man's gentle lips pressed against his temple.

"You should write to Dumbledore about this. He'll want to know that Draco has lost his will to live."

"I already did. Once I was sure he was comfortable, I sent Buckbeak with a quick letter."

Severus nodded, and gently guided Sirius down to the floor.

"We need to get some sleep, Padfoot."

Sirius smiled and twisted his fingers into the man's hair, pulling their mouths together. Severus responded lovingly, his arms holding the younger man protectively. Parting, they smiled at one another, both thinking the same thing. They were both well into their forties, and the passion of youth had turned into steady love and a deep care for one another. Although, Sirius felt the familiar shudder in his flesh when Severus slipped both hands underneath the other man's shirt and gently caressed the still-soft skin of his torso. The muscles in his arms and back were well-developed from running around as a dog all the time, and Severus smiled against the tender neck.

Gently, Sirius undid the many buttons of the man's robes, and pressed his lips to the warm skin as he opened them gradually. Passionately, Severus suddenly caught the man's lips with his own and crushed their mouths against one another in a heated kiss. He shrugged out of the sleeves of his own robes, and pushed up Sirius's sweater and shirt of his head, his hands firmly stroking his flesh.

"If only Remus were here…" Severus whispered, longing for the touch of Lupin's slim, strong fingers.

"No…because then we'd have to share." Sirius smiled at the man and ran a hand through the smooth black hair.

"But think of his small body between us, Sirius…he was always so fiery for such a tormented man."

Black nodded, pulling Severus to him, their bare chests pressing together.

"We need to sleep, my dear Severus."

Once more their lips met, and then they were wrapped in one another's arms and soon fell asleep.

Folding the latest letter from Sirius, Albus Dumbledore looked over at the black-haired young man who was sleeping peacefully for the first time in a week. He had been tormented by dreams of the blonde at Hogwarts whom he longed for; he saw pain and despair in these dreams, and Dumbledore had been told why but was powerless to do anything. Harry had at least another month before he was completely healed, and he only hoped that Draco could hold out that long. That young boys should be subject to such emotional torments was something that Dumbledore had never imagined, and it hurt him deeply to see such pain in Harry's eyes.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

"Marcus…leave me be. I beg you to just go…"

The man pulled Draco back into the Quidditch locker room and shoved him into the showers. Turning on the water, he pulled off the boy's clothes and pushed him underneath the hot water. The steaming stream hit the boy's chilly flesh and made him wince a little. He was pressed against the wall, Flint's manhood sliding thickly into his body. Draco endured the abuse once more, fists clenched tightly on the wall, fighting back the tears that threatened and finally won. Draco's skeletal body shook with sobs and collapsed to his knees on the hard tile, barely supporting himself with his arms. Marcus followed him, continuing to pummel the weak boy; his hands and lips leaving bruises on the already tainted pale skin. Finally the man ceased, and let Draco fall to the floor, the water still on as he got out and dressed, leaving the boy. Sobs still wracked the feeble frame, and his skin was red from the hot water beating mercilessly down on him. He lay there for a time unknown by him, until Snape found him twenty minutes later. Shutting off the water, he gently lifted up the fragile figure and wrapped it in his own warm, thick cloak. Swiftly he walked up the hill to the school and made his way to Gryffindor house. Entering the common room, he banished the shocked faces of the students to their rooms with a word, and sent for Hermione and Ron.

"Professor Snape? What on earth…" Hermione exclaimed when she saw him. "Oh dear god….Draco!"

She rushed forward and took the pale head in her lap as Snape laid him on the floor in front of the fire.

"He needs to stay somewhere other than the dungeons. I thought of the two of you."

"Of course he can stay here…Ron?"

"Yeah…all the others from my room are gone for Easter. He'll stay with me."

"Thank you Ron, and Hermione."

"Professor…what's happened to him?"

"I'm not going to say, Ms. Granger…but I'm going to stop it. Take care of him. Make him warm, feed him, and clothe him. He needs to sleep most of all, and don't let him go out or anything; though I doubt he'll fight you on that. I will return later to see how he's doing."

Snape left the common room, and Ron picked up the blonde boy easily in his strong arms.

"He weighs almost nothing, Miney."

"He looks like a skeleton…his cheeks are so sunken in."

She bewitched the boys' staircase so that she could go up into their dorm, and preceded Ron to his room. The redheaded boy laid the blonde on an empty bed and went to fetch some towels. Hermione pulled away the cloak and extricated Draco from it, folding it neatly and laying it on a chair. She noticed the bruises on his body, and where they were most frequent; she formed her own ideas on what had happened to him. Tenderly, she tucked the boy's naked, bruised body into the warm bed. Once, his eyes opened and fixed on her and she smiled comfortingly, kissing his forehead gently. A small smile began to brighten his lips, but he fell unconscious again as Ron walked in.

"You see him naked?"

"Yes. He's got bruises all over and I can see every single one of his ribs, Ron."

"Snape said to feed him."

"Let him sleep for a while, then we'll get him some sort of food."

Meanwhile, Snape had hurried to Slytherin here Marcus Flint was sorting through some papers.

"Ah, Severus. What can I do for you?" the younger man smiled, looking up from the desk.

"You can pack your bags and never come here again, Flint."

Marcus raised an eyebrow.

"I wish I knew how I have incurred your wrath, Professor."

"I will not stand to see Malfoy mistreated thus."

Flint laughed cruelly and a wave of blind hatred washed over Snape.

"We all have our weaknesses, Severus. Mine just happens to be in the form of a young boy-toy."

Snape's fist smashed into his former student's jaw and the young man fell to the floor. Grabbing the front of his robes, Snape glared into Flint's face.

"My godson is no one's 'boy-toy'." Easily, he picked Marcus up by the front of his robes and threw him against the wall. Flint grunted as he hit the floor, and Severus crouched down beside him.

"I want you out of here by nine o' clock, do you understand me?"

Looking like a beaten dog, Marcus nodded as blood from his nose dripped on the floor.

"Get your things out, and never come here again. If I ever catch you within earshot of Draco, I swear by the mark upon my arm that I will kill you."

Fear showed in the young man's eyes and he scrambled up, away from Severus. When a former death eater swears upon the Dark Mark, it is an oath that must be kept.

Snape left the dungeons, and fifteen minutes later saw Flint hurrying toward the gates. Professor McGonagall came up behind Snape and looked out at the retreating figure.

"Dismissing faculty again, Severus?"

"For the well-being of my godson, Minerva. His parents are practically no more, and he has no other family besides Sirius and me."

She nodded and handed him a letter.

"From Albus."

Silently Snape read the letter, his eyebrows raising and some of the wrinkles in his forehead smoothing.

"Four days? I'm not sure that his friends will be able to handle such a shock. They think him to be dead."

"True, but they still have not accepted that fact fully. Had they resigned themselves to the knowledge that he is dead and they'll never see him again it would be harder. But they still have some hope, Severus." She smiled, tears welling in her eyes. "Through all of this, these young men and women have kept the hope that we all needed."

Severus nodded and folded the letter again, handing it to the woman. She was older now than she had been seven years ago, and they both remembered seeing young Harry Potter for the first time. A round-faced little boy with staunch courage, frightening ambition, selfless kindness, and sharp intelligence as they'd not seen in years had come to them with mixed reactions.

"I need to go check on Draco."

"Where is he?"

"I left him in the care of Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley in Gryffindor. I do hope you don't mind, Professor." He smiled.

"Not at all, Severus. That is probably the safest place for him, really. I hope he's a little better in two days when Harry arrives."

In two days, Draco was better. When he'd been told Flint was no longer at the school his mood had lightened a bit. He was still quite thin, but Hermione had coaxed him to eat little by little since Marcus left, and he was beginning to look less like a walking skeleton. The three were at dinner and heard the door in the hall open, the chilly wind sweeping in over them. Ron and Hermione shivered, but Draco's attention was drawn raptly to the hall.

"Draco, what is it?"

The blonde swallowed hard, and turned back around, staring at his plate.

"Probably nothing. Don't worry about it."

Once they finished dinner, they started to go back to Gryffindor but Hermione remembered she needed a book from the library.

"I'll go with you." Ron grinned, and Draco shook his head, smiling a little after them. He walked slowly towards the house, but suddenly Hermione's scream echoed down the corridors. Spinning, Draco raced toward the library, only to stop stock-still at the sight before him. The corridor was well-lit, and he saw Hermione shaking in the arms of Ron, who seemed torn between protecting the girl and going toward the figure before both of them.

"Ron, Hermione…it's me. I swear it's me…"

Walking forward, Draco's heart was pounding in his head. He stopped beside the other two and stared at the black-haired boy. He no longer had his glasses, and his skin was pale and smooth-looking. His hair had grown and covered the scar, but he too was very thin; his clothes hung off him like a scarecrow.

"Draco…please. It's Harry, I promise…" he stepped forward, only to see that Ron and Hermione retreated even farther. Draco stood fast, and shook his head slightly in disbelief.

"Draco…" Harry whispered, looking at the beautiful blonde whose sunken cheeks caught the shadows. The boy had feared he would be received like this, and ran a hand through his hair. Finally Draco stirred, and walked swiftly to the boy he'd thought he'd never see again. Harry looked up as Draco appeared in front of him, and put his arms around the thin body as their mouths crushed together. The new shock of seeing their best friend kissing their once worst enemy made Ron and Hermione pull apart. Hermione wasn't as surprised, but Ron was dumbfounded.

"What the…Hermy, did you know?" He whispered to her, receiving a nod.

The two young men clung to one another, tears streaming down both their faces.

"I thought….you…but the death eaters…oh god."

Harry smiled and gently kissed the pale cheek.

"I'm not dead, Draco. I'm very much alive, it just took a long time for me to become recognizable."

The blonde choked and Harry held him.

"But I saw you….dead."

"Only severely wounded, Drake. Albus and I have been living in hiding for the past few months."

"Dumbledore? Dumbledore is alive?"

"Yes. He's here, meeting with the Professors."

For the first time in too long, Draco smiled and once again kissed the other boy. Finally they parted, and Harry was attacked by a sobbing Hermione, followed by a choked and shocked Ron. The reunion was a very happy one, and the three young Gryffindors held one another for a long time. Finally they all trooped back to the common room and were up until all hours of the night talking and simply being together. Over the next few days there was much catching up to be done, and too soon break ended and brought back all the students. The first night back, there was an assembly in the Great Hall where Professor McGonagall announced that the Headmaster had returned. There was silence in the hall until Ron, Hermione, and Draco began clapping. Soon it turned into a thundering roar and no one cared how he had returned. Finally regaining control, Dumbledore spoke.

"It is an honor to be back once again, my friends. But I am not the only one to rise out of the ashes, as it were. As we all know, things in the wizarding world have been getting steadily better since last year when Lord Voldemort was defeated by young Harry Potter. The loss of this young man was taken hard by many of you in here tonight, especially by a particular few."

The three smiled at one another.

"But, now that peace is returning to our world, I think it is only fit that our joy be complete."

With that, Harry came out of a door behind the large table, and a collective gasp rose from the assembly, even some teachers. Murmurs began and were silenced by the old man's hand.

"What everyone needs to understand is that Harry and I were never dead. We have not returned from the grave in any way; no wizard is that powerful. It was necessary to our cause that many of the other side believe that two of the greatest figures of good in the world were dead, and the rest of the Death Eaters were easily brought to justice."

Some Slytherin students stared dully at their plates.

"There are things in our world that many do not know, and will never understand. But I am about to introduce to you a man who was feared by all, and believed to be dead by even his closest friends two years ago."

A few in the assembly knew who was being spoken of, and when Sirius Black came into view, mixed emotions showed. Again, these were silenced by Dumbledore.

"Sirius Black was never guilty, my friends. He has long been on the side of good wizards, and plays a key part in many lives here."

After a few more words, stating that Sirius was to become the new Defense of the Dark Arts teacher the plates filled and all was well.


	6. Chapter 5

**Epilogue**

It was a long while before Harry and Draco found themselves alone. They were in one another's arms quickly, and the two young men were happy together.

"I was starting to believe I'd never see you again, Harry."

"I would have come sooner, but Albus wouldn't let me. Which I suppose was a good thing. I was terrible to see, Draco…Voldemort almost destroyed me. And the Death Eaters would have finished me off if not for Sirius and Snape. I think it's funny that Severus is your godfather."

"They're lovers as well, you know." Draco smiled.

"That makes it even more ironic. But would that make us incestual in some way?"

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Well…they're not related, but they're lovers."

"And we're not related…but we're lovers." They both grinned and kissed lovingly when Harry said this.

"It's just ironic."

"Okay good. I would hate it if we were related somehow."

"Wait…Sirius is my uncle."

"He is? Oh yeah…Narcissa is his sister. Well…he's your uncle, and my godfather."

"I suppose that's like cousins in a way."

Harry sat up, Draco doing the same.

"That's not even like cousins."

"Well a godfather is kind of like an uncle…" Draco said, but Harry leapt on him.

"Either way, I don't fuckin' care. Even if I found out that we were brothers in some weird, twisted way I think I'd still kiss you like this."

Draco smiled into the soft mouth, and put his arms around the other boy's strong back.

Above on the hill, Severus pressed his lips to Sirius's cheek.

"Let's not tell them."

Sirius smiled and nodded.

"It's a good thing Draco looks exactly like Lucius instead of his mother."

"I think Albus had something to do with that actually…"

"The eyes?"

"Yes. It would have been a dead giveaway."

"Harry's green eyes are so beautiful though…can you imagine two pairs staring at one another…"


End file.
